The Gallery of the Lost Time Warriors
by DWIAgal
Summary: The Doctor's alone, half a universe away from anyone bigger than a cell and completely unsure of what to do. Five of his companions have been removed from existence, except in his mind and with his Tardis almost destroyed he's completely stuck, or is he?
1. The Day When Everything Goes Wrong

"Ow!" The Doctor yelled, cursing in multiple languages and emerging with a hand pressed to his forehead. He turned to face the main column, letting out an agitated humph and a withering glare at his beloved ship. Although if you asked him right now he'd probably say "a disobedient, unappreciative ship that never does what I tell it too!" and start to list other unpleasing attributes he claimed she possessed at that moment. Other times he'd call her sexy.

"What was that for!" he exclaimed, throwing his unoccupied arm up in a frenzy and almost falling off the raised platform he'd walked onto. He steadied himself with his raised arm and straightened his bowtie sulkily while the Tardis hummed in amusement. It quickly stopped though when suddenly, the lights failed and the power died completely. The Doctor scowled in the dark.

Initially, it just added to his annoyance. As far as he was concerned at that moment the Tardis had done it to mock him, something which fell snugly into his pet hates, getting mocked by anyone, especially his ship.

This had all been strangely unusual, for her as she didn't normally result to violence when it came to his usual dilly dallying as for the most part it was completely harmless and beneficial in some cases... And her (sometimes evil in his opinion) humour at his pain annoyed him on his even on his good days. Today was certainly not one of those days sadly.

Today, he was in a foul mood, due to his failure in delivering the couple who currently travelled with him to a perfect holiday destination he'd been promising for weeks. It was a planet made entirely of diamond and several beautiful displays, similar to ice sculptures could be seen at this time in the year for them, and it was one of the Doctor's all time favourites. They of course had been sceptical that they would ever get there and when the Tardis had landed them in a rubbish tip, twentieth century America it had caused him a great lot of embarrassment and annoyance and justified his companions' lack of faith. What's more, they were still making fun of him and he knew it wouldn't die down for weeks. As usual he blamed the Tardis and her common miss-navigations that led to all kinds of trouble when Rory had climbed back into the Tardis with a banana skin hat but his companions didn't believe him or enjoyed harassing him anyway. Personally he wouldn't have minded the banana skin on his head...

Fiddling with the Tardis mechanics always cheered him up and so it had been the first thing he'd done since they'd retreated back to their room, claiming tiredness and lack of interest in trying to find another place. He'd pondered whether they would allow him to try again tomorrow and then picturing facing them, quickly changed thoughts. It relaxed him with the need to concentrate and gave him something to do while his constant human companions had to sleep.

Humans were cheap versions of the Time Lords and he made sure to boast to any new one he met. He also used it as a back up in an argument with the opinion that he could always call them an ape and they wouldn't be able to claim any such names back on him as that would be degrading them even father.

On a deeper level though, the Doctor without a name had many reservations for this. For one, he was always the one watching them die with every step he took and for another, he could never fall in love without having his hearts ripped, torn and shredded. For him, by the time he realised he was already too far in and that it could never ever be forever, it was too late. Then there was always their death to haunt him. Later, on his return, he'd try to pick up the shattered pieces of his hearts to try to put them back together again and would grab someone else to run with him because they stopped him having to look into his great big nothing. Riversong, he didn't understand her or their relationship. There was something wrong about her, something that reminded him of himself... but he didn't know why.

If you could feel his deepest feelings, he felt the greatest ache of loneliness and had constant reminders and names to add to his list of grief. His own losses (many resulting from the terrible actions he was forced to take) and the people he couldn't save had all resulted from his long and seemingly endless existence. Instead of dying like he sometimes thought he should, he faced a different man in the mirror, a stranger and who would mark a separate part of his existence and the rebuilding of his identity... again.

Riversong was just another name and when he ever pondered their strange friendship (if that's what you could call _it_) and her weird times to turn up, he tried to derive distance, because after all, knowing her too well meant thinking about her death for him harder. Death avoided him and he pondered when it would really meet him and when it would finally catch up with her in her timeline and his past timeline.

But back to now and the less depressing side of his life, travelling and acting childish and all mad scientist fun. This Time Lord was furious and he didn't care if he sounded like he was overreacting.

"Ha ha, very funny, now turn the lights back on or I won't bother fixing you ever again!" he warned with vicious anger, clearly not finding his current situation funny and hearing the surprised and confused cries of his two other companions as they too were interrupted from, well, whatever they were doing in their bedroom, (the Doctor had hinted to them after the last incident in their bedroom to since restrain from doing anything that might have future repercussions or involve domestics of any sort, especially babies).

"Amy, Rory, you two okay?" the Doctor called automatically and was greeted by two quiet but recognisable replies that they were both fine.

"But what's going on Doctor?" Amy's voice rung out through the ships hallways again, "Who turned off the lights?"

The Doctor gave what he thought was where the Tardis controls were another glare before replying calmly, "It's nothing, they should be back up in no time. The Tardis is just being _difficult_."

He thought he heard her chuckling and gritted his teeth. Everything was just going wrong today.

His ship still hadn't made a sound and the Doctor admitted, looking back, that his threat had been overly harsh. Worried that he might have offended her and that they'd be stuck inside for days, he moved forward and found his way to stroking the main console in the pitch black. He hoped his mainly selfish motives hadn't already destroyed any chance of her accepting his apology.

"I'm sorry; you know I didn't mean that. I was just in a bad mood; can you turn the lights back on?"

There was a low, menacing hum that sounded more like a groan from the depths of the Tardis but no lights dared to flicker on.

The Doctor sighed, annoyed at himself, a smidge still at the Tardis and his companions and now guilty for hurting his ship. It was his oldest, most loyal best friend after all. Dark thoughts were beginning to enter his mind of him losing her when four holograms began to flicker into life like ghosts or some might have said angels... But they were hardly them at all.

He stared up at them, half in awe, half in confusion. Had the Tardis decided to forgive him, so soon? His guilt level rose at the thought that she might be a better friend than himself and of his outburst.

Four humans began to take place (he didn't reckon the Tardis would have a reason to show him Time Lords), the first taking a clearer form before the others. The young woman stood, clad with the distinctive features of straightened blonde hair, a new blue leather jacket, a plain mauve pink shirt poking out from beneath it and reasonably tight black pants. Before he knew it he had a Rose Tyler hologram staring straight at him with hard brown eyes. He gaped dumbly, unsure whether this was punishment or some kind of sick joke.

Her skin glowed, providing him with a meagre amount of light to see with as she spoke robotically, "This is the voice interface, Emergency Protocol 5534, please do not panic."

Beside her another figure had almost emerged, also young and also clad in new leather jacket, except this one was red. Her dark complexion flickered as well with invisible candle light.

"This is the voice interface, Emergency Protocol 5534, please do not panic," Rose Tyler and Martha Jones now repeated together.

The Doctor _was_ panicking (and worrying) though, as his noble Donna took her place beside them, dressed also in a leather coat but a longer one, open at the front to reveal a stylish grey sweater and a red belt and easily recognisable from the last time she'd remembered him before he'd wiped away all her memories of him to save her from burning up. What was going on? What was emergency protocol 5534?

He was pretty well sure now that this wasn't a joke; the Tardis never activated protocols as a joke.

"This is the voice interface, Emergency Protocol 5534, please do not panic," the three voiced in synced monotone.

The Doctor had had enough as he predicted what would happen when the fourth figure emerged and screamed, "Just be quiet!" And they were.

"Now what on Earth," he questioned slowly to the system, "Is Emergency Protocol 5534? Tell me!"

There was a brief more moment of unnerving stillness before the four, now joined by their very own Amy Pond, continued, "Emergency Protocol 665 has also been activated. Please do not panic."

The Doctor realised he'd dumped himself on the glass floor after demanding answers and sprung up to the face the four glowing faces of his companions past and present to ask again, "tell me! Explain yourself!"

He. Hated. Suspense.

Again, there was another silence before they finally answered, "Emergency Protocol 665 has been activated due to instability in the time line causing a split between two separate time streams."

"A crack in time again? I thought I'd fixed that, "A dark frown burrowed on his face, "And what is Emergency Protocol 5534?" Although he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The suspense was now more of something resembling dread.

"Emergency Protocol 665 has been activated due to an unauthorised removal of four of your companions from their given timeline. All took place at the same time, in different locations on Earths."

Fear was practically bubbling up inside the Doctor now as he muttered the simple question, "when?" He could feel something wrong in his own timeline, something had changed that shouldn't of since they lights had cut out and he knew somehow it related to the people in front of him.

"The 30th of September, 2011 at 9:24PM is the closest the Tardis could detect to their disappearances." They hadn't taken any time to answer him now and he wondered if they'd been slow at first to make him suffer but then he decided it was probably them loading or booting and that that was more likely...

The Doctor opened his mouth in disbelieve as he looked up at the glowing red head, "But I just went there with Amy and Rory, we visited Brazil, nothing was wro- ah..." Because there was something wrong. Amy had disappeared.

"But who's doing it and where may I ask is the crack?" his voice raised itself in pitch again and he wondered if Rory was about to storm in in his own confusion, wanting answers. The Doctor hoped not, because he didn't have any. He was more full of questions and worries than her husband was.

"The kidnapper could not be identified. Scans are still taking place but are being halted by the system's attempting closure of the crack." At least the voice interface had started calling it a crack instead of wasting his time with a lengthy description. He was really sick of having a conversation with a computer though.

Then they continued, "The crack as been located on a Tardis wall separating a hallway with Amelia Pond and Rory William's bedroom."

The Doctor's mouth fell open as he realised that there was a new danger to fix and he ran out of the control room as fast as he could without any proper light, stumbling over stray wires and machinery and whatever got in the way of his descent. The four holograms stayed there staring into the space he'd been, obviously waiting for him to return as he felt his way along the Tardis corridors.

"Why that room, why does it always have to be the room they're in?" he mumbled agitatedly to himself and then piped up, "Rory? Rory, are you there? Get out of your room!" after a moment he added, "And don't touch the wall!"

It then occurred to him that Rory probably seen the crack open and evacuated before the Doctor could get there, just as the Tardis's emergency lights came on. The bells didn't go off, much to his relief and he had almost reached their hallway. _Things can't get any worse today_, he thought grimly to himself and as always when someone uses this saying, it did.

He turned the corner, not finding Rory, but assuming he was still in his room. Without Amy to bother him he might have even fallen asleep the Doctor mused with withering hope. It wasn't until he entered the dark room and found it empty and devoid of anything but a large jagged smile on the wall that he realised something was deeply wrong here too. He could feel the time particles in the air and knew that the crack was too powerful to have just formed without something important that just got fed to it.

Something, like Rory.

It just wasn't the Doctor's day.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: This is a new story I'm writing. I haven't written anything for ages and I'm trying to redo all my old stories which is why I'm not updating them. But I will... When I get time *shakes fist at Teachers*. Although I'm only in Year 8 so I can't complain... Anyway this won't get updated for at least a week (sorry!) because I'll be away but I'll update when I get back. I will be able to reply to feedback probably though so comments are much appreciated! And I want to make this a reasonably long story so I hope some people stick around to read it because I have some ideas of what I want to do with it.<strong>

**Cheers,**

**Lara**


	2. The Great Moon of Sharira

The Doctor charged into the console room and asked the voice interface if its progress was going any better than his.

"Progress is minimal, to fully initialise repairs, scans and to close the crack you would have to permit to leaving the Tardis." The Doctor groaned, truthfully he could easily close that crack and do some minor scans but for the life of him he couldn't find his sonic screwdriver and even if he could, he'd have to open the crack initially before it would close itself naturally. To do this would mean potentially allowing enemy access to his Tardis and, after dealing with a prisoner escapee almost getting the Earth blown up, he couldn't do that.

"Your sonic screwdriver is located underneath you, a meter to the left, "It answered, surprising him nicely for the first time today. It was little bit unnerving, even though he knew the Tardis could read his thoughts.

He gave the companions a crazy-alien grin before darting down the stairs and crawling over to where, as he'd just been told, was just where his screwdriver lay. If the world was all going wrong, he might as well try to make light heart of less serious bits. Also, as he had lost three of the four and potentially even the other one of the holograms, he might as well enjoy their voices, for possibly the last time and ignore the fact that they're just holograms with robotically generated versions of their saved voice. He frowned at that. Sometimes he thought too much.

"I'll be back!" he said waving the sonic screwdriver in front of their completely serious faces and buzzing it as he jumped down the steps. He expected an easy journey without the problem of no light but rather than staying as they had before, they reappeared in front of him, momentarily stopping him as they began to speak, "It is not advisable to go past this point, the crack in unstable at the current time but should be safely accessed in the next half an hour after the Tardis has better stabilised her systems."

The Doctor groaned, reigning uselessness and wondering back to sit down on the steps leading to the main platform. He looked down restlessly at his hands. They were too young to match a man of his age but that was as it always was with his constant regenerations. Sighing, he turned his attention above him and found that the four holograms had followed him back and had their eyes plastered on his current position. He felt numbed by their dark, stares and wished for a quiet place to sit and think and scan.

The loneliness was setting in now and the adrenaline was wearing off. Now he just had his fears to contend with. Amy, Rory, Martha, Donna and Rose had all been taken and... Wait... He stood up, grabbing and rustling his hair back with pent up energy like he used to in his past self.

"Think, you mad man, think!" he shouted in the spur of the moment. There was something important he was missing, something else not right! He jumped down from the platform in one giant pounce and started bouncing up and down on the floor with all the force he could muster and so that his feet made loud clomping noises of the floor while he chanted, "think, think, think, think, think!"

Then he stopped suddenly, facing the four unimpressed holograms and raising a finger to his lips as the echoes of his jumping faded away to nothing. He waited until nothing but the Tardis hum could be heard before lowering his hand and speaking a voice just above a whisper but growing with every decibel, "and that my friends, past, present, future, dead, alive, lost, trapped, executed, is how to get the brain working!" If Amy was here she'd send him to the loony bin for real.

There was another silence before he continued, "And now I know what's wrong." He'd said with all seriousness as he walked forward and up the stairs until he stood a breath away from the fake Rose. He stared into the depths of her brown eyes before murmuring, "how did they get you without destroying the entire universe? You never went to that day in our travels and you're not missing from my timeline which means you must have been in the Parallel Universe at the time and that's impossible."

He felt scared of his enemies' power at that point and thumped himself down to think and scan.

Feeling bored again some minutes later and finding nothing in the scans, he decided to try annoying the system, if that and was possible.

"Rose Tyler, how are you?" he grinned, patting the stair next to him. She looked at him dully before replying, "Are you ordering that the voice interface hologram should "sit" next to your current position?"

He sighed. So much for a normal conversation but he still replied, "yes, yes I am."

She virtually shimmered into sight next to him and he almost sighed again at how unhuman she looked. Because she wasn't human, she was just a hologram of a memory.

"Tell me why there are four of you," he suggested and added, "And can you work at the sounding human bit?"

"Voice interface shall try to communicate with you as you prefer," she replied, losing some of her monotone and sounding a bit more like his old Rose. He smiled at her slightly more human voice.

"The voice interface created four replica's at the exact moment of their disappearances so as to fight your own memory loss. Without having a stable implant of them in your most recent memory they would cease to exist."

The Doctor was slightly bewildered, "so you saved them?"

"Yes. "

He licked his lips, a greater fear building in his gut, "And the kidnapper or kidnappers, is or are very, very powerful." He stated darkly.

Rose didn't need to answer him. It was a fact.

He got lost in thoughts after that, wandering under the Tardis to look for things to repair but finding that he'd already done it all in here earlier.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting with his head diagonally leaning on his hand as he lay sideway on the platform examining his dimly lit Tardis and noting that she didn't look quite so glamorous in red light. He was completely and utterly bored. If he didn't have five important people to save and a crack, that was currently eating his pool, to close, then he might have fallen asleep.

"Amy," he droned boredly. He'd got off calling them "voice interface" and had now programmed them to answer to their name singularly more or less, "how long until the crack's stable?"

"The crack is more powerful than normally expected and has currently sucked 26 rooms into itself. Without landing it is possible that half of the Tardis could be lost within the next hour."

"What!" was the Doctor's reply as he almost hit the roof, "isn't there a stupid emergency protocol saying, 'tell the Doctor when his Tardis getting sucked into oblivion'!"

Amy missed her usual cue to get angry and instead stated stupidly, "Would you like to document a new Emergency Protocol into the Voice Interface?"

"Now's not the time!" he cried, rushing around the controls in a panic, "I don't happen to want my Tardis eaten, I've grown very fond of it over the years and I don't want it destroyed!"

He clicked the last lever as he shoved down a spinning wheel and waited for the usual grinding that meant time travel but nothing came.

"I set the coordinates to the nearest abandoned, breathable planet and now it won't go!" He cried, bashing the side of the console with his clenched fists and rubbing them after they throbbed painfully. With slight embarrassment he then realised that he was relying on a computer for answers instead of his brain but then, the computer wasn't having a panic attack!

"The planet has to be set to this exact spot, now or in the future to depart." Rose calmly assured him.

He took a deep breath too, completely overwhelmed and turned back to change a few settings. Then with a new pang of hope, he waited and hoped the Tardis would be able to land him on a planet he could breathe on.

The lights failed as he clicked the final button and the holograms flickered hazily in and out of existence as he held on for the bumpy ride. Indeed it was bumpy, with the Tardis struggling to not fall apart as it lit itself on fire... again... and he found himself holding onto what felt like dear life as the gravitational pull failed and he found himself hanging from a railing to stop himself plummeting into the ceiling as his whole world shook crazily and he grinned at the voice intercom holograms' upside down stares. Then, after what felt like a century, and when he was sure he was about to lose his grip, the Tardis thudded precariously onto the ground and the Doctor face -planted into the railing.

He rubbed his nose and noted that it was bleeding slightly before wearily dragging himself to the Tardis doors. He could have fared worse.

He turned back to look at the four of them before saying, "wish me luck!" And opening the doors to reveal what looked exactly like Earth's moon but then he knew better than to assume that from looking at the universe around him.

"So where am I?" he called out quickly.

"The Moon of Sharira in the Rule of Euglas Dufgh the Eighth."

"Ah..." The Doctor finished before being more or less, shoved out of his own ship and into the hard, rocky ground of the Moon. If his goal was to annoy the voice interface, than he was pretty sure he'd achieved it, however that was possible.

The Doctor stared out into the distance. He'd heard lots of things about the Great Moon of Sharira. None of the things said were very good.

From the beginning of the Rule of Dufghs', it marked the middle of the undisturbed remains of half a universe killed in intergalactic war forced upon by the greed of a neighbouring planet of Sharira. They'd both died mysteriously and the rest of the universe was given over to the only other species who lived in it at that time, the Jurehs, who hadn't gone back for a good two hundred thousand years to claim it properly. This was the moon that was used as a grave site for all the bodies during the war and it was said that there wasn't anything in that half of the universe until they returned again. It'd all died.

The Doctor wondered why he was possibly the only living thing bigger than a cell in half a universe, as he set course across the moon to find anywhere that looked less, well, moonish and as he stargazed into a distant nebula, he wondered again, this time about how he could ever find his lost companions.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Okay... Now I'm not updating for at least a week... Goodnight... And I hope you enjoy the chapter...<strong>


	3. Poison and Growing Fears

**Author's Note: This chapter may be a tad bit too long in the descriptions for some people and is rather slow but I promise things will be heating up in the story soon and I'm not favouring Rose just so you know... I will do segments of the others too... I like them as fillers and this one has some things that are important very soon! But this chapter isn't only that just so you know... I should update soon...This is really hard to describe without ruining it... Er... Oh yeah! I don't own Doctor WHo and all that stuff... Enjoy! And please review because it means so much to me... As long as it isn't flaming...**

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><p>The nurse looked down at the tired, desperate middle aged woman seated on the cheap fold out chair with silent pity, pity because she knew the woman was hoping at this very moment in vain. The brunette refused to look up as she took the paper from her hand. All that gave her away as she read the paper was a half second frown and a twitch in her lip when she got to the worst bit, not that it was very long. Then she'd crunched the DECEASED paper in her fist. It was clear she didn't want to cry here in front of a stranger and that she just wanted to go home where she could mourn in peace or in the arms of her loved ones. This old lady bargained that this had to be the hardest part of her job, watching them when their thin line of hope shatters.<p>

As the nurse observed politely, she stood up stiffly with a long sigh she grasped the already standing, old woman's hand in a soft handshake.

"Thank you for trying," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly, "he didn't... he didn't go down without a fight and I-I know he's gone to a better place... With our Jen..."

The kind green eyes and the soft, wise smile gave her all the comfort they could as the she led the broken woman out of the small empty room and into the loud busy hospital corridor. She didn't question who Jen was and assumed she must have been a close relative.

The widow tensed at the familiar clinical atmosphere that she'd buried herself into in the past month as the nurse guessed she would and the wiser woman quickly started to lead her where she was needed next before she had to face any other sick patients or anything to upset her fragile state. She'd been like that when her husband had died and she still wished today he'd lived that little bit longer, to see him reach 60 but his fate obviously said no... And her husband's had too... Yet horribly younger... And from horrific injuries... She internally shivered at the thought of her Peter going down like that but made to not show it.

As they walked, the widowed lady turned back only once, to glance at a familiar blonde woman she'd noticed when they'd left the room. She'd then glared with all the hatred, jealousy, hurt and betrayal she'd felt in their acquaintance and almost smiled in pleasure at the woman's sudden shock and confusion.

A tiny piece of her whispered that it wasn't the younger woman's fault but a louder voice wracked with grief and fear of being alone wanted to blame it all on her, the woman he'd died for. No, it had to be her fault; she shouldn't have let a good Husband and Father die for her own sake. She should have done something, she should have stopped him. Why was she here anyway? She hadn't seen her bother to visit the man she killed in the time she'd been there and she'd only popped out once to get dinner.

She noted with all her distaste, the woman's strange hunched stance as she leant against a white wall, her hands strangely clasped around her chest and teeth gritted. With sudden, scary clarity, she realised the woman was shaking even, hands white and presence lacking in her usual authority. In the six months she'd known her she'd never seen THIS. Surely the three months she'd avoided her in hatred couldn't have left her like this. She haltered for a moment, weakening her eye assault on the woman, and her guide stopped too but didn't look up as she scribbled things on her notepad much to her and secretly, to the other woman's relief. She silently questioned her now and the other woman matched hers with all the apologies she could fit into her look. She obviously knew then and the woman felt a tad bit annoyed when she didn't answer.

There was something very wrong with her. She'd known it that horrible day three months ago when she'd got the phone call while picking up their youngest, Tom from Soccer, she'd known it those fifteen years ago when her only daughter had been diagnosed with aggressive cancer and she'd cried herself to sleep as the poor five year old, clung to the tiny remains of her once beaming life. She always knew when something was wrong and for a second, she wanted to embrace the woman and try to fight her demons where she'd failed before. Then she'd remembered why she was here today and why the woman was asking for forgiveness. Her anger bubbled fiercely over her compassion and motherly instincts and with a slick swish of almost black hair (now streaked with a few lines of grey) she turned away. After all, the _child_ hadn't saved _her_ husband.

As the two finally turned into a corridor that branched to the left, the blonde fixed herself up painfully and turned to the door next to her. She didn't care if the woman knew; she just cared if anyone else knew. Business couldn't wait, especially not today... well... tonight. She drew a shaky hand away from her chest when she noted the corridors empty and cameras pointed away and lifted a bloodstained device to the door, checking the sign one more time to check it was the right place. Then satisfied she buzzed it open quickly and stumbled inside the "STAFF ONLY SUPPLIES ROOM".

Her thoughts were switched to Harry, her now dead friend and workmate as she readied the wound in the dull light from the bulb above her. Those three months had been hard for her too.

He'd indeed killed himself for her slowly and painfully but not in the way Mary thought he had. Mary had been told he'd jumped in front of a man assaulting his workmate after she'd left a work dinner and he'd followed her to give her back the jumper she'd forgotten. What exactly he'd been attacked with had been kept vague and his involvements with aliens had definitely been left out too. His work was too confidential for her to find out.

In fact the reason of his death had because the two had been caught up in an alien torture game. A ship, filled with toxic gasses and both had been teleported there without any warning or past encounters. They'd been a moment before, fighting a group of aliens, intent on wiping out the human race again, in _Cardiff_, of course, because that's where they all seemed to go. Without realising they were also angering the same alien's allies in space who punished them at the worst time.

She didn't remember any of it, which was the main reason why it was at the worst possible time; she was having an uncontrollable fit from being shot three times by an alien gun. He'd struggled with the barely breathable and potent air finding a switch and sending her back first because of her state and poisoning himself by spending that extra time there in trying to getting back after that. If he'd left her, she would have died and if he'd gone he'd have lived and probably hated himself, knowing him.

The widow didn't understand that she never had a choice or an opportunity to stop him. He'd killed himself (at least set out a death sentence)in the spur of the moment in trying to save her and how much it hurt her inside to see another person die, a loved one that won't ever come back who had a beautiful (if sometimes naive), loving wife and three perfect kids. She knew of their first daughter and her terrible death and she wished Mary didn't have to go through a second without her husband's support this time but it was obvious she wasn't wanted. And it would stay like that.

Also at that time her human Doctor had disappeared with nothing but the note, "IMPORTANT" written on a sticky note on the fridge. Her Mother had admitted it after she awoke three days later in hospital and waited another week of excuses before questioning her. That'd hurt. It still hurt. She'd wondered briefly if they'd lied but it seemed even more unlikely with her Mum's growing approving attitude of the human Doctor and even more so when she'd searched the house and only found the sticky note in his writing to work from and his mobile on the table. She'd wondered what had been so important that he'd left her without a goodbye or even a decent explanation but she didn't have a clue over her crazy theories.

And then there'd been the news that they'd also tried to avoid mentioning but eventually had to tell when Rose had seen his stiff, unmoving body, what had happened. It was horrible when she got better, he got worse and she couldn't find a cure, knowing full well that if her Doctor hadn't have left for a, "IMPORTANT" reason then he probably would have found one in a few days.

It also didn't help that she'd been poisoned too, making work for a cure harder and having to put on a facade of good health to trick anyone who thought she should be resting. She'd even risked her life by doing solo missions to prove her point. She was weak, struggled with less than twelve hours sleep (yet never getting it), tired, had her lungs burn from just breathing and doing the equivalent to choking her when she ran, had her hands and feet shake and had the continual symptoms of tonsillitis, it was no wonder that getting shot during another solo mission, involving some controlled policemen had left her a crumbled mess.

She had already fixed the wound up while thinking and was about to put it back on the shelf when a strange overly powerful white light suddenly shone into her eyes. She covered them with her hands and then with the weirdest sensation of dying and waking up, she blacked out.

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><p>The Doctor nibbled on a jelly baby as he walked down a brutally large crater. He almost smiled at his soft spot for jelly babies and decided that his favourite ones had to be the orange ones... Even if they all tasted like very old jelly babies should taste like, cardboard.<p>

Agitated, worried, hungry (three packets had not been enough for close to ten hours), thirsty and not looking forward to the approaching night time he only had the things in his pocket to help him cope for however long it took for the Tardis to close the crack and repair herself. Besides him having to have done this before, this place gave him the _creeps._

"Ahh, you Jelly Babies have always been so nice to me, surely you can see something I can't," he paused and then after a strange wait he threw it into his mouth, "useless... Wouldn't mind some _proper _company though!"

Also, the "being completely useless" thing was driving him completely insane.

In the distance the blue police callbox stood and checking one last time couldn't hurt. Maybe if he could just get her to fly him to the Jurehs then he might be able to borrow a ship or something... He knew he had to act... He just didn't know how... Or what he was actually supposed to do...

He soon approached the Tardis and after checking, the locked doors confirmed his fears of freezing. He took a lungful of now ice cold air and settled his back against the wood with a suppressed sigh.

He was sure he wouldn't fall asleep with all the things running through his mind, and all his uncomfortable bruises he'd got from the landing. Strangely, or maybe it had just been stress and lack of sleep in a week, he not soon after fell into a restless shivering mix of dreams that seemed to mimic darkly of his thoughts anyway. Glimpses of faces and the Tardis burning kneaded at his brow and made the shivering more intense as he slipped onto the rock ground and the night got evermore colder.

_Help, _a word that snuck itself into the tormenting nightmares, _I need help_.

When it still reeked of darkness the doctor woke from his fitful slumber but reckoned he felt worse than before his body's disastrous attempt at sleep.

His nose burnt with an unquenchable pain, still coated in blood from the landing and the horrible coldness which made his fingers and toes ache too. His teeth chattered painfully together and his skin had covered itself goose bumps, something he rarely experienced with his superior make up.

If a human had been dumped here, they'd have most certainly frozen by now. At least that was one good thing about Rory and Amy not being here.

He also noted a number of pains probably associated to bruises new and newer from the bumpy ride and his terrible bed. His throat felt like sandpaper now, and any water remaining felt frozen, and his insides practically screamed for food every moment and movement he made.

He glared up at the outline of the huge planet of Sharira, the thing blocking the sun out, he'd no idea how long it'd take for the planet to move out of the moon's way and knew that the longer it took, the less time he had to survive. His body might even join the possible thousands lying beneath him... He shivered at the thought of it being true and not myth... He still had yet to find any signs of them digging up the rock ground or tunnels... Or of the great beast that was told to live inside the rock beneath him...

The Doctor searched though his pockets, _first though, _he decided, _another packet._


End file.
